A man shot out of bed. At least he would have, if it weren't for the Toe Goblin pinning him down. Half hidden in the dim light and grinning like a lunatic, Sven pressed a crude dagger to the man's throat.

"Four days ago, a member of my crew was shot and killed in the forest. Did you kill him?"

"Wh...what?" The man mumbled, eyeing the dagger. "I don't know nothin' man! Nothin'! I ain't never killed nobody!"

SLASH

"Liarrrrr!" Sven growled as blood dripped from the man's cheek. "You have identical arrows to the one that killed Svangal!"

"Th...those ain't my arrows!" The man protested, gesturing to the quiver leaning against the wall. "Im storin' them for Malcom. He's a buddy of mine and asked me to... to test them! Please! Please don't hurt me!"

"Where is this... Malcolm!" Sven demanded.

Tears streaming down his face, the man sobbed, "3rd street... 5th house on the right! Just...just don't hurt me!"

Shock crept over the poor man's face as Sven lowered the knife. "You ain't gunnn hurt me?"

"Now now now. Did I ever say that?" A quick blow from Sven knocked the man out cold. Scampering off the now limp body, Sven watched in delight as the Toe Goblins quickly removed their victim's toes.

As the Goblins deposited their spoils in his pouch, Sven laughed gleefully. Yet despite his apparent joy, he had still failed.

The Toe Goblins had spent the last three nights visiting the homes of known archers, and they had struck out every time. However, this time Sven had gained valuable information. A name – Malcolm, and a location – 3rd street, 5th on the right.